Back when I was in the seminary the ‘new’ prayer book had just been adopted two years before by General Convention. So a lot of us still had the ‘proposed’ book, 1976 edition.
One day a friend and I were discussing why we do these things – why we go to the trouble of creating liturgy and making Eucharist. We agreed we do it for one reason: that the people get fed.
Michael Wyatt, my friend, took out his prayer book and his pen and wrote on the title page, under the word “Proposed”, ‘that the people get fed.’ That is why we do it.
That is why Jesus does it. That is why he – even after taking the disciples away with him for a rest – he goes to the crowd, teaches them many things, and then, taking the resources at hand, shares five barley loaves and two fish – that the people get fed.
That is why he goes to Jerusalem. That is why he shares the Passover meal with his disciples. That is why he gives himself up to the authorities, accepting that it could well mean his end. That is why he reminded the disciples, do this in remembrance of me. Do it – that the people get fed. That, feasting on the will and grace and love of God embodied in me, in my flesh and blood, they may take in the source of life, the everlasting life. He does all that, so that we may have eternal life.
Michael Wyatt wrote to his sister Kathryn some years ago, when she was facing death, some words of comfort and of healing:
God feeds us with forgiveness and hope, with strength and patience, many times a day.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Remember what the Lord said to David, in last week’s lesson: “I was with you wherever you went.”
Well, we do have to say a little something more about David. You may remember this, too, from last week’s lessons: The Lord sought David out and found him, the Lord chose him and raised him up to be king. David was sought, chosen, and consecrated to God’s purpose. The Lord guided him as a shepherd guides his sheep. The Lord protected him and fed him as a shepherd feeds and cares for his sheep. And then, well – you know the story. Just heard it. David exploits his power over Uriah and sends him to his death – a cover-up of his earlier crimes of adultery that leads him into further betrayal. Stay tuned till next week – Nathan will have a story to tell David that will change his life.
Meanwhile look at the sharp contrast with Jesus. “Jesus is often referred to as the son of David and of David’s line,” Herbert O’Driscoll, the Canadian dean of preachers, writes, “yet there is no moment of greater contrast between David and our Lord than we have here…”
The people were drawn to Jesus, and his heart went out to them, and he taught them, and they found healing in his presence. Like a shepherd leading his sheep, he led the people again and again to safety, by safe waters, where they could be refreshed, get fed, and rest.
David had at this moment of succumbing to temptation acted wholly for himself. To feed his own lust he offered a meal to Uriah as a means of betraying him. He put a friend in danger. He indulged in the selfish pursuit of his own personal ends and purposes. He left his calling unanswered.
Jesus, loving, acted for others, offering a meal as grace – a sign of grace and of his power that is power to save and power to heal, not to destroy or exploit. He protects his friends from danger. He conveyed God to us in his own person that we might be made holy.
Incidentally, in looking after his friends he may have come on a little strong on one occasion. There they are in the boat, worrying about the waves and the wind, and he drops by to see how they’re doing. Hi guys. Breezing up tonight, eh?
YIKES! They are in a boat but he – he is walking on the water.
Who is this? Who is Jesus? Isn’t he the carpenter, the son of Joseph and Mary? Don’t we know his brothers and his sisters?
And he is. And he is the Lord. And he is mighty – might to save!
The power of God shown in Christ comes to us in many forms. Here in this gospel today we see him at his pastoral best – and we see him at the beginning of the revelation of his true nature. He calls the disciples to him on a mountain and teaches them, and seeing a large crowd coming, he brings forward a chance for them to see the abundance of grace.
Philip, where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?
Philip takes the bait. “We couldn’t pay for bread to feed this many people with the earnings of half a year’s work, not enough to give each of them even a morsel.”
Andrew, more hopeful, but still not quite getting it, points out the boy with the fish and barley bread. It doesn’t seem like much. But.
It is enough. Because Jesus shows us that his grace is sufficient. “Make the people sit down,” he says. And they sit, in groups like households on Passover night, and Jesus takes the food and after he gives thanks, he gives it to them – and they are all satisfied.
This is a miracle. It is enough to convince people that he is the prophet they want. They come after him to make him their king, the king they want, the king they expect, and the king they think they need.
But he is not that kind of king. And so he withdraws. Alone. And they see him no longer.
When evening comes the disciples push out into the dark waters and start home across the sea. He is not with them. He hasn’t returned from the mountain. The waves rise – and there he is!
Yikes, indeed. But he says, don’t be afraid – it’s me.
They move to take him on board. And then they are home.
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Michael is home now, Michael Wyatt, whose words I quoted earlier. He died three weeks ago, and we celebrated his life last Friday night at the parish he had served in Seattle. He is home with God as we all someday may be home with God. And yet God was with him throughout his life, as God can be and is with us every day of our lives.
God is with us wherever we go, as he was with David— even when David was at his worst God loved him, and was present with him, ready to welcome him when David turned again to him, turning home.
This is the bread of life: God’s grace and forgiveness, his love and care and sustenance.
God feeds us with forgiveness and hope, with strength and patience, many times a day.
This is the bread of Life: JESUS.
Early in the week Kirstin Leyen remarked that my sermon could be summed up in three words: JESUS. BREAD. AMEN. She’s right. Let me show you why…
Watch this: do you know sign language? Here are two signs used by Trappist monks, when they wish to communicate without speaking out loud – or across the fields as they farm:
BREAD … GOD
BREAD … GOD
GOD … BREAD
These two signs are as closely linked as the presence of God in the Eucharist. Because God feeds us in the Eucharist with the life that lasts – the living bread is the bread that continues to give life, to sustain us; the living God is the true source of all being. In his name and in his care we find life, and we share it, together with one another and out into the world he died and lived to save.
So, Kirstin was right:
JESUS. BREAD. AMEN.
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Herbert O'Driscoll, The Word Today, Year B, Volume 3 (Toronto: Anglican Book Centre, 2001)
http://www.nga.gov/feature/homer/homer07.htm
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